


A Better Man

by queercyberpunk



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Drabble, M/M, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2373047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queercyberpunk/pseuds/queercyberpunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders always knew that Hawke would love a better man than him. A sad ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Better Man

Of course he would love a better man.

Anders watches the way he looks at him: Hawke’s sharp eyes trailing over dark, elven skin. Anders has always considered Fenris little more than a beast, wild with barely controlled rage. But Hawke looks at him with those eyes. They glimmer with the unspoken, with true affection.

Anders hates it.

He sees the way Hawke’s hand curves over Fenris’ thigh under the table at Wicked Grace. He espies the amused half-grin cutting across Fenris’ features. Anders hates him.

Anders has always seen everything. He thinks its a relic of living in the Circle. He always had to watch carefully, to wait for an opening. Now he can’t help but see everything. And it cuts him to his core.

Love becomes Fenris, Anders thinks. His face has softened and his manner has become almost agreeable. He looks rejuvenated; when his face is unlined by that scowl of his, he could be called beautiful. No wonder Hawke loves him. The more Anders looks—the more he  **sees—** he begins to understand.

It doesn’t help the lump in his throat.

Men like him aren’t deserving of love. As much as he blusters and asserts, Anders knows in his heart he is a monster. An abomination. He is to walk the hard, lonesome path where no one can follow. Happiness was never meant for him; all he can do is watch and  **see**.

And when Garrett turns that roguish grin on him, Anders’ heart twists in his chest. When he makes some stupid quip no one laughs at, Anders’ jaw clenches. When he strokes his beard in thought, Anders’ hands quiver.

Justice has warped him—made him a slave to wrath and a merciless avenger. But Justice could never quash his romantic spirit and his sentiment. Anders doesn’t want that part of himself anymore. He remembers when they burned the body of the first girl he ever loved. She had failed her Harrowing and so they had struck her down. He remembers the fire consuming her delicate Rivaini skin, carelessly devouring a body he had spent months memorizing. He didn’t think a human heart could contain so much anguish and still continue to beat. But his continued, even when he wished he could tear the damned thing out. He remembers Karl, his eyes utterly blank and without depth. He was nothing of the handsome, silver-tongued gentleman Anders remembers so fondly. Anders recalls how Karl begged for death and how his knife slid smoothly between Karl’s ribs.

Anders should’ve learned his lesson by now. It has been shown to him, he thinks, time and time again.

Of course Hawke would love a better man.

When he lies to Hawke, he’s surprised by how easy it is. The lie flows cleanly from his lips, and of course, Hawke agrees to help gather the Sela Petrae. Of course he’s so affable and willing to help, making some stupid joke about manure as they turn to leave. The remnants of the lie fester in Anders’ mouth.

Anders loves Hawke the most when they’re in battle.

He loves the rough, inelegant arc of Hawke’s stave. His magic is wild and powerful, and so very Hawke. Force Magic pours from Hawke and fire twists around him like a living being. The lazy grin he always wears melts away and is replaced by a look of unerring concentration. His dark brows knit together and his lips thin with effort.

When the smoke clears and Hawke perches his father’s stave on his back, he gives Fenris a jaunty smile. Once more, he becomes the carefree, languorous Hawke. The shift is so immediate Anders wonders if anyone else catches it.

At the end of the day, Hawke and Fenris leave together. Anders watches them go. His hand tenses around the bundle of Sela Petrae and he feels the familiar heaviness gathering inside of him. He is a monster and people don’t love monsters. Especially people like Hawke—people burning with so much promise and life.

Anders takes a ragged breath and turns to go back to the clinic. His story has never been a love story, he thinks, and that is his lot. Hawke deserves a better man than he could ever be.


End file.
